


One by One (plus One)

by helena_s_renn



Series: Two by Three [3]
Category: Def Leppard, Greta Van Fleet (Band), Music RPF
Genre: Crack Pairings, Don't Like Don't Read, Drinking, Frottage, Jake only watches, Kissing, M/M, May/November, One Night Stand, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Sex, Voyeurism, kind of a threesome?, maybe strong hints of sibling incest but Sav doesn't know for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: Sav's point of view of the events of "that night".They sat there across from each other like the continental divide lay between two couches, between Kiszkas and Savage.
Relationships: Joe Elliott/Josh Kiska (referenced), Joe Elliott/Rick Savage, Sam Kiszka/Rick Savage
Series: Two by Three [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692721
Kudos: 10





	One by One (plus One)

**Author's Note:**

> *The characters portrayed should not be confused with the RL people whose physical appearances these are the idealised versions of. The real Def Leppard and GVF have nothing to do with this fictional nonsense. No disrespect to the RL bands EVER.  
> *All parties were over 18 (Dec '18)  
> *Cross-posting from RF. See the previous fic in this series for more notes. Inspired by works by RF's fairy11.  
> *There may be some 1) repetition 2) contradictions across the chapters/series. The overall work took almost a year and my perceptions of GVF changed a lot over that span.  
> *Comment mod on. No BS or flames tolerated.

It had been a long time since he'd hooked up with someone new, someone different. That, Sav decided, was why that night kept unexpectedly resurfacing in his thoughts. 

New. What had he been thinking? 

New, so new he was barely out of nappies, that kid. Yet obviously he qualified as an adult. He had hair in the requisite places; his voice had changed years before and certainly he had neither the thoughts nor body of any sort of choirboy. Height, maybe an inch or two shorter than Sav. He'd probably been having sex for years; the only hesitation in him had been the generation gap. No, this was a young man.

'And I'm so fucking old,' thought Sav. That was what the mirror and the Internet told him. The thing was, he didn't feel old. Not inside. He could be forever 19 himself in his own headspace, or 22, or for sure no older than, say, 35. About the age when he'd had to start wearing his jeans buttoned because it was no longer sexy, just laughable. 

A man his age shouldn't waste his hard-ons on wanking. His wife - neither of them - wouldn't thank him for that. However, he wasn't totally decrepit yet and as far as Sav was concerned, he might as well enjoy it when and if, be it 'only' his own hand or what have you. As they sat there across from each other like the continental divide lay between two couches, between Kiszkas and Savage, continuing their advanced shop talk, Sav didn't regret at all that he hadn't got off in three days. 

What words to describe... Sam? Of course he used his shortened first name but it seemed inadequate. Samuel Francis Kiszka, the web had told Sav when he'd checked his mobile in the lift, seemed more fitting. More dignified. He was... sleek. Funky. Lithe had been Sav's first impression, once he got past gawky. One of those 'old soul' types, where-as his twin siblings were like play-dough in primary colours compared to earthen clay fired with a metallic glaze. 

All of the band were "hotties" if Sav was into semi-current slang. He gravitated to this one, couldn't help it. He was a - the - bassist and he was so fucking pretty that he nearly broke the mold. Maybe if looking at a headshot of Sam, some would have to squint twice to divine male or female. In person, no question: male. The paradox was what kept Sav tuned, a drop of blood at a time funneling its way into his dick till he finally stopped fighting it.

Seeing Joe herding his laughing, just-as-horny contemporary past them without so much as a glance filled Sav the rest of the way to full thickness, his erection angled toward his left hip under the shiny black calfskin. The idea that Joe was gonna get his rocks off within the next hour, even if not with him, turned him on. So did the idea of himself doing the same. No way would the kid across from him, also hard for whatever reasons of his own and not bothering to hide it, not notice, so he rested his bare arms along the back of the couch and let him look. Sav gave him the once-over, too, allowing his gaze to linger and caress, down and up again. "We gonna do this thing?" he asked into the relative quiet. It was always a little awkward when one had to ask, a suspenseful mental vertigo. 

"You up for it?" Sam's voice belied his age, squirrelly like he thought he was clever, gone raspy from weed and lack of sleep. Beside him, Jake snorted and prodded him with an elbow. 

Sav waited a beat. "Mm." Affirmative. "And that... isn't entirely involuntary, I take it." He inclined his head just slightly. 

As answer, Sam tossed his mane and slid down in his seat as if he was offering himself crotch-first, as it were.

"Alright then." That was it. The moment. That moment that flashes bright and hot and you know you're going to fuck. Sav had never outgrown or aged out of the addiction to that floor-drop sensation. He stood - on his feet - crossed the short distance and edged his way between Sam's legs. Both brothers inhaled simultaneously as he knelt on the carpet, but Sav focused only on Sam, whose mouth tasted of hops and peppermint, and underneath, something clear and pure. He wasn't passive, oh no. A frank and forthright tongue pushed against his. Normally Sav didn't like sloppy kisses, and they weren't exactly, but between them there was so much exploratory licking and sucking and that breathing you do across wet skin. Those lips were soft, he knew they'd be as plush as they appeared even from a distance. All the brothers were similarly gifted. 

The shirts came off first. He respected the expensive costumery and unbuttoned carefully, pushing the satiny fabric off Sam's narrow shoulders and draping it over the arm of the couch. "You'll probably broaden out yet," Sav murmured, mostly to himself. Joe had, in his twenties. Now there was smooth, buttery skin. Whipcord, that was another word, but even that didn't do Sam justice. Sav at his skinniest had been broader, rounder, and Steve hadn't visually displayed that kind of textbook structure. This man's nips were another thing: they weren't the tiny, pale pink, flat with pinpoint centres Sav had become accustomed to over the years, they were honeydrops, the buds in the middle standing up like, oh, what was that American candy? Hershey's kisses. But one-third that size. Fingers drawn to them, he called on a lifetime of techniques to find something a kid who might never have explored that part of himself would take to, rather than laugh it off. What better than what he preferred himself, light pinching and pulling. 

"Mmmm, I like that. How'd you know?" Sav just smiled. Up close, the brown in Sam's eyes flashed between amber and mocha and drew him in like hypnotic wells. What was this kid but sweetness and sugar? 

Fire, that was what. Tempered fire. There was reddish in his hair and in his eyes, too, when the light hit them a certain way. His tongue wasn't lazy at all and Sav gave him the measure he required of ebullient snogging. Their tongue-tips met, the raspy-wet surfaces dancing in and out, twining around. There was no stillness, all movement. Moans rippled from the long, smooth throat. Sav echoed some, punctuated others with, "Yes, good lad, show me." Show him that passion, that heat. He got it, and in return he let his hands fall steady down Sam's arms, up again. Tendons jumped under the skin, raised blood vessels pulsed, making Sav think lower even though he wasn't there yet. He'd have sworn, an overshadow of blue tinted the mahogany-gold irises, and Sav wondered if his shaded a dark reflection. 

Their lips and tongues drank their fill and ventured forth. "That's nice, so nice..." Sav cupped the young man's face, running his digits along jawline and over incredible cheekbones, the rough bit of stubble on his chin. Then down his swanlike neck, not a line or crease marring it, just the pointed little jut of his Adam's Apple. Again, Sav's thoughts strayed lower. He was getting impatient, too. 

When he reached for his own fly to ease the pressure, Sam leaned forward, eyes darting to Sav's for permission. "Oh, you wanna do that for me? You go right ahead, Sam, but let me, too..." Feeling foreign fingers so close to his hard-on, Sav's pulse jumped. He had Sam unbuttoned now, reaching around to grab his arse and pull him to the edge of the couch. The long, slender legs were already open around him as Sav worked Sam's fly down. Fingers teased Sav, rubbing over the covered length of him and the bulge of his sac under his leather, into his pocket when they felt the miniature bottle of lube. 

Then there was a hesitation. "It's alright," murmured Sav. "I'll get me kit off but I think that first, we should take the edge off for you, Sam... you're good for more than one round, yeah?" 

Sam threw him a 'No, duh' sort of look while Jake snorted again from somewhere and Sav laughed. At least one of them would get a Round Two. "Of course you are. Lift up now." 

Getting those skin-tight leathers down past Sam's knees was something of a puzzle, but they both knew what was happening next, wiggling and pulling to make it so.

Sav had a good look with his eyes and mouth, moving in to get a sample. Fresh skin, fresh sweat. Not even saline, more like an energy drink. No piercings, no tats. How long would that last? He'd only ever had the one earring and had held out on skin art for more than 40 years, so who knew. The cut of the deltoid above the bicep, the salt-pan barely-there curve between his pectorals - Sav couldn't wait to see and touch the other side of this kid. 

Surprisingly large and veiny hands explored him, too, almost ripping his shirt off. Sav had to chuckle at that. "Careful there, I like that one." Youth. So spirited. Well, that's what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Other than where he could temper the rush into a higher peak at the finish. 

They had kissed, and they did it again crossing lips and sucking the end only to begin another, their respective bare front sides pressed together. He could feel the rapid breathing, the in-out lift of Sam's rib cage which was cradled against his. At first holding himself in check, Sav could tell, the kid had got curious or nosy. While he measured an incredibly sinuous long back, tracing the distance between each of the spines of his vertebrae, Sam drew the point of his tongue down Sav's neck, to his chest, whuffed as if he were stacking up his courage and gave a curious little flick to his nipple, already stiff in anticipation. The taste to his liking, it seemed, he licked for real, one then the other. One hand slid to the middle of his chest, Sam playing with the hairs there. These days, Sav couldn't deny that some of them were white, but they were fine and soft, a fact that the young man was taking in without a word. The play of heat-wet-rasp on his nipples had made them so pulled-tight and sensitive, he tipped back his head and moaned deep in his chest. 

Moving on, though, Sav took over again, pushing Sam back into the cushions and leaning forward. He had never seen a belly button quite like that. He lapped and rimmed it. Ran his tongue over the tiny fold of paper-thin skin. "That tickles!" Sam put a hand on his shoulder to push him down further. 

Americans, this lot, he'd expected no foreskin and was pleasantly surprised to be wrong. The overall presentation jutted up at him like a double-dotted exclamation point. Maybe Sav blinked once and grinned but he took it in stride. As hard as Sam was by the time he'd untangled the kid from his leathers and pants, he was fully retracted anyway. Juices had leaked and the head was shiny, red-purple with the ridge flared out. "Gonna taste..." Sav picked up the scent of tanin, and sucked him down whole. After a startled second, Sam lurched and bucked but Sav was ready, using both hands and his forearms to keep him semi-stationary. Muscle and tendons shifted as Sam met him - upthrust, suck down. 

Time, experience, practice, but Sav still had to breathe. The first time he gulped in air, he moved to Sam's inner thighs, kissing and licking alternately side to side. Sam shook silently and when Sav looked up, he could see it was from suppressed laughter. "Tickles!" Sam told him a second time, so Sav mock-bit the juncture of leg and groin and returned his services to where they'd be best appreciated.

Again there was that two-fold gasp. Sav was beginning to wonder if there was some sort of psychic bond, or if Jake was just very good in the transference between what his eyes were seeing and imagining how the things he was doing to his brother would feel. Having perfected the act, Sav sealed his lips in a tight circle and worked them up and down the turgid flesh inside his mouth, flicking his tongue where ever it reached. Sure, he sounded obscene, slurping like a pro. Wasn't he, though? 

This one was a grower who squirmed around on his butt like a dog with a itch. Yes, he needed to be breached but it would have to wait. Sav swore the rod in his mouth swelled further in response to his suction. Pure sugar-sap triggered saliva; if he'd had his mouth wide open, he'd have gleeked all over the place. Sam whined wordlessly as weathered, tenured touches stroked his sac. 

"I... I can't!" 

When Sav glanced up, he noticed that Sam had flung one arm out and the brothers' hands were entwined at the end of it. "Oh yes you can, Sam," he hissed. "Look at how contracted these precious jewels are, surely they hurt. You'll wanna give up your seed, yeah?" One of them gulped, the other moaned. Sav shifted to take Sam's balls into his mouth. Practically hairless and the texture of hard-boiled eggs under the skin, the double treat instantly reacted to his touch. It was definitely Sam who cried out, "Go lighter!" 

Right. He could remember being that age, when every load felt bigger than the last and the pangs before he shot it almost painful at times. Sav slurped and sucked more gently, added more prodding with his tongue. 

Long legs spread wide as they could go; Sam shifted his pelvis to satisfy some inner compulsion. "Oh gaaawwd!" he breathed after less than a minute of having his stones washed and massaged. Belly tense, he moaned, "Now blow me, suck it for me, I'm so close!" 

"Mmmph!" Giving Sam's sac a final tug with his lips and a lick along the seam for good measure, Sav moved back to his erection. To say it was vibrating was an overshoot, but he doubted that even one more red blood cell could have fit into the rigid structures below the skin. Slick drooled down over the ridge and lower, and he chased the dribbles. Knowing that flashing teeth even for a smile could be disconcerting, he went directly to work after that. A little hoarse yowl punctuated the meeting of his tongue upon Sam's glans. Sav swallowed it whole again squeezing the crown with the peristaltic motion of his throat. He looked up to see lips parted slick and sex-puffed, a lower abdomen beginning to tremble. 

This time was for real. He gave no quarter. Kept his lips tight over his teeth and around Sam's dick, up and down, swallowed the tip and rubbed his tongue along the vein. In less than a minute, Sam jack-knifed around him and Sav was orally awash in a surprising amount of cream. It just went on and on. The usual spunk taste coated his tongue, but also, earthy, and he did mean earth, dirt, mineral, hidden gems, not like when people were trying to be tactful but they meant something else. Fascinating. 

"We should get to a bed," Sav suggested when his mouth was free again, dropping all polite pretense or phrases used in old movies. 

Dazed, stoned on the post-sex high, those eyes were heavy-lidded now. Sam's mouth moved in slo-mo to form words. "You think so? I concur. Couch blow jobs are nice but the real thing deserves the proper stage." 

Reaching for his mostly-finished drink to hide a smirk and rinse his palate, Sav moved out of the way enough to sit back on his heels and watch the younger bassist maneuver himself to his feet. His walk was rubbery, somehow. Not only the wobbly knees of just been blown. More like an alien. And so neatly made. No excess anywhere, nothing astray but maybe a couple of hairs between his eyebrows. Sharp hipbones in the longitudinal middle framed a softening cock at rest over a tidy ballsack decades from the effects of gravity, long limbs and torso, his gorgeous un-colour-treated hair hanging halfway down his back. 

Sav stood up, too, wincing when his knees cracked. "In here..." he gestured. Demurring the lead to Sam, he had a nice long look at his backside. Fly still open, he tucked himself in enough to reach the other room with his trousers up. 

The bedroom designated his for the night was large enough to hold the bed itself, two nightstands, a brace of chairs with another sort of end table between, and the console table-slash-desk over which a flatscreen TV was bolted to the wall. Neither of them had any use for anything but the king-sized, of which Sav pulled back the comforter and top sheet immediately. After sex, he liked to be warm. Having a bit of cover available in the face of these two young blokes, that would be conducive to all. 

Yes, two, because Jake had followed his naked sibling, too. He said nothing as he flopped into the chair nearest the center of the bed, hooking one leg over an armrest. At this point, Sav would have been more surprised had Jake left them to their own devices. Back in the day, he had on one memorable occasion been host to sisters and all that entailed. This was somehow different; he still hadn't entirely sussed out Jake's role.

Beside the bed, he turned and gestured to Sam to crawl up in it. Instead, the young man finished unzipping him and pushed his leather and silk trappings down. A wicked grin suffused not only his wide mouth but his whole face, it seemed. "Nice," he murmured, taking Sav in hand. Calluses on at least two fingertips. It wasn't Sam's fret hand but Sav remembered that he played bass with his fingers, not a pick, and he was decidedly aggressive about it on some of the faster songs. "I wouldn't put you at a day over 23." From behind them came a strangled sound. "Shut up Jake, he has really nice junk." 

Jake said nothing, but Sav inquired, "Surprised?" He knew what he had been blessed with, was pushing-pulling-thrusting it through Sam's fingers. No one had complained since 1980, when he'd resolved for the sake of his own mental health to screen his lays' level of experience. This, he'd learned from his mates and it had served them all well.

"Kinda." Sam didn't elaborate on what he'd thought he'd be exposed to, as it were, and Sav didn't ask. He enjoyed the deft touch, the long fingers skidding up and down where he was swollen and hard-risen, the other hand cupping his balls. Feeling them inside the looser skin, that faraway look in his eyes like he was doing a comparison study, Sam mused, "Do you shave them? I made you sweat, huh? These are... heavy. Full. Like mine get after a couple days, knowwhatimean?" 

Sav knew. "Mm," he grunted. It had been a very long time since he'd heard this level of wonder. Sam wasn't over-awed by his persona, though, but by the physical characteristics of an attractive aroused man, or so Sav assumed. Then Sam dropped to his knees, and warm wetness gilded him. First the head, with an almost oily swirl of tongue. Sav let out a surprised blurt when the same rasp that manifested in Sam's voice licked the most sensitive spot on his body, the frenulum below the head. 

"Like it?" he asked, and did it again. 

A drop of pre-come welled up to fall on the extended tongue. Sav had felt its progression up his inner tube, another blob of slick now being pushed up the same path. A circle of ultra-soft lips surrounded him. "I like it... maybe too much. Take it easy." 

"Mmph!" Sam plied him with suction for a moment, then pulled back for air. He exhaled, "Feed me some more of that." As if it were something Sav had any control over, but hearing what his body offered was pleasing produced a quick rush of hormones. Another clear droplet appeared and Sam leaned in again to swab it away on his tongue. 

Taste buds, saliva, heat, and he was so bloody hard watching himself being treated. Sam didn't mind direction in words ("yes there, a little to the left, good boy, whip your tongue around... nngh!") nor in intermittent pressure to his jawline or under his throat. In minutes, Sav was up on his toes, fingers threaded into Sam's hair more forcibly than he'd intended. Letting his hand relax, he waited till Sam's next breath to back away a step, slide into bed and beckon. He wasn't surprised at all to see Sam fully renewed. The bounce of that eager rising wood made him smile. Well, half-smile. 

Like an over-excited chocolate lab, Sam wiggled over to him and melted into his embrace. They touched each other unrestrained, everywhere, snogging almost an afterthought but a necessary element, lips being even more nerve-laden than cocks, he'd read once. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. He just hoped that his divot of a navel amidst softness and thick thighs wouldn't put this willowy creature off. Not judging by the way Sam rubbed up on him and twined his legs into Sav's. The urgency to consummate wouldn't let his hips be still, the two of them playing grab-arse and their tongues flashing pink, mouth to mouth. 

Before he gave in to just their mutual hands Sav managed a ragged, "Turn over for me now, luv." 

"'kay." In five seconds, Sav had the younger bassist face-down under him. Now it was him humping against that little tiny bum like a kid himself, nearly lost in the instinctual rhythm. His belly fit so perfectly into Sam's spine, his chest against the bottoms of Sam's expressively mobile shoulder blades. Elbows bent, arms braced on either side of the narrow rib cage, Sav bent his head down to kiss whatever warm skin he could put his mouth on. 

Something in the corner of his eye made him look over at the other brother. He slouched low in the chair, his legs spread wide, pelvis tucked under, one hand slowly tracing the ridge under the fly of his black jeans. "Take it out if you want, Jake." He could throw his voice pretty well, although with Sam grinding the mattress and squeaking below him, Sav wondered if he'd heard. 

'No thanks,' Jake shook his head, expression unfathomable.

If he really only wanted to watch, that worked for Sav - he could realistically only bang one of them. "Hands and knees, Sam. Easier on both of us that way." Maybe the young man thought so, maybe not. It was just better to let him escape into his mind, into sensation rather than deal with all the marks of age up close while he was working his way to orgasm. Sight-unseen, Sam could imagine whatever - and whomever - he wanted. 

He looked down at the flawless skin just waiting for him. If they'd really had the time, Sav might hold this young man under him for hours licking and touching the thin layer of living tissue over the ribs' even spread that called to mind ancient curved barrow downs, path between. He spared just a moment. On the pristine sheet, Sam had got his knees and elbows under him, up on all fours: head lowered, cheeks pointed up, knees far enough apart to make out his dark little hole. "You should see yourself, you're fucking perfect, Samuel. Want you..." 

"Yeah." An answer wasn't required, but Sam said, "I know you'll do me so good." 

Indeed. Otherwise why bother? Sav squirted lube onto his fingers, let it warm for a moment, and smeared it on Sam's rim. "You've done this before, right?" He couldn't imagine Sam would answer in the negative, but he didn't want any surprises. 

"Yes, right." The intonation suggested a little confusion over his question. "I've taken dick if that's what you mean. Why?" 

"Consider it," Sav pressed his index finger into that tight-muscled aperture, happy he'd trimmed his nails a day prior, "a nod to ancient history, like the Eighties," he chuckled, select scenes flashing through his mind. "Back then it was de rigeur to ask. I had to cut off festivities a few times, because I won't break anyone in." 

"You won't? How do you even know with a dude?" The kid had no trouble, and Sav worked in his middle finger, too. "You're obviously experienced."

Sav ignored the question-that-wasn't. A lot of people over the years had, if not outright asked, then hinted for information from him in reference to his sexual track record, but he preferred not to discuss it. Instead, he moved his digits in and out, searching for the textured bump of pleasure spot, gratified to see Sam's back arch and his knees slide further apart. "You can only tell if he starts crying or some such," he answered wryly. 

Sam tossed his hair. Silky strands fell in waves, some coming to rest between his shoulder blades. "Fuck! No way. I never did that." 

"No, 'course not." At that point, Sav had almost been expecting some input from Jake, verbal or otherwise, but no. Whatever his thoughts, they remained his own.

He prepped fast, but made sure to be thorough enough while Sam's eager little meows egged him on. At the last second, he got them turned in profile to Jake's view, the thought of the second brother watching his arse wave and balls swing from behind or likewise, his face contorting during the act not to Sav's liking. However good it felt, sex looked ridiculous. Maybe not when you were 19, but that was ancient history in his case. Lust was not. The second he was gloved, Sav gave in to the insistence of his hips, his dick, his fascination over this fine young thing and the need to get down and wallow. 

The first invasion proved nearly as orgasmic as the final thrust at orgasm itself. Not just for him, apparently, and he'd waited more than long enough. Urgent, gritty moans came from below. "Let it go, lad, whenever you need to." Sav leaned down to surround Sam's spare torso with his own upper body and arms. That skin-on-skin stimulation, his hard nips scraping against firm flesh and bone... Just then their ears were treated to... what could he even call it? From the next room, a singer wailed the battle cry of getting it hard and deep, so deep. The vocal range was impossible yet it soared and dove, a multi-octave ululation of sin and hedonism. 

The two boys in his room were giggling. Sav grabbed on to Sam's wrists and plowed him faster. At first he had thought they were laughing at him, but the evidence of Sam's sweaty furrowed brow, rolled-back eyes and bared teeth said otherwise. Giving in to his own approaching peak that would eject the molten lava from his balls, Sav rose up and slammed it home again and again. His fingers curled and locked around those bony little hips, holding Sam at the angle he needed. That they both needed. They smacked together groin to arse as he let loose and rooted with a ferocity that he hadn't felt in months. Sam was flailing, head down on the sheet, moaning what he was about to do and then articulating his release till his voice choked out.

Spasmic flutters around his aching cock provided the final trigger. Usually vocal during sex, Sav buried himself grinding and groaning, striving wordless, peripherally aware of one pair of dark eyes on him. On stage before thousands he wasn't ashamed to display his body. Hell, at this point in their career they wouldn't be as successful if he wasn't up there shaking his money maker every show. That wasn't arrogance. He did what needed doing, always had. What he did in private with his long-term partners, he did for love. While he spewed seed and sauce down to the dregs, till he felt wrung out and inside out, till he was shuddering with the drain of his life force, he willingly gave up control. 

All had gone quiet below. Sav blinked, and looked down at the sum of flaws that equaled transcendence. With his mouth hanging open, the proportions of Sam's already long face overshot the paradigm. Though he could only see one now, Sav had noticed earlier how Sam's right eye was set higher than the left, and there was a slight angle to a pointy nose. An unexpected rush of affection flowed through him. Maybe it was the dopamine. 

All that was left was to roll them to their sides. Still joined, Sav fumbled for the comforter and pulled it over their lax bodies, his face hidden in fragrant hair - artificial and natural shades combined. 

It took him several breaths to calm down. Several more, as he held the young man's sprawl against him, to slide free. The experience was barely over, he would keep it close in his thoughts if nothing else; he didn't want to let it - or Sam - go quite yet. 

"You wanna spark up?" Jake asked presently, heavy-lidded eyes bright over the edge of his sleeping brother's form. 

"You got some?" asked Sav, hoisting himself up a little on one elbow. Not that he was a regular partaker but he hadn't dared bring any on the flight; those days were long passed. 

Jake nodded slowly. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise. You... do you have anything to offer me?" 

Oh, what? Fair trade? Did he think he should go next? Sav raised his eyes to the ceiling. It was too bad. This one was rather pretty, too, but he wasn't going to get it up again till morning and he didn't feel like sucking another dick just for the sake of it. "Check the minibar." He flicked his gaze at Sam, then to the door. "You should probably get him dressed and..." 

"No, you misunderstand. I wasn't trying to... pay for it." Strange reversal, that.

Sav huffed once, enough to say he didn't necessarily believe it. 'The truth will out'. Was this kid calling him a whore? Rather ballsy for someone who'd just sat there and watched his baby brother get shagged to the point of passing out. "Look at the stones on you," he drawled, and did look. "How about you stroke yourself off to the memory of wot I just did to 'im or to the thought of how well-used your other brother is right now. That one's not gonna walk right tomorrow, I guarantee it. Poor Jake, still hard and only his own hand to give him relief." 

Mouth open in disbelief or supreme horniness, Jake sat frozen, and Sav thought that any second he'd bolt. Or whip it out. He didn't. Instead he reiterated, "No, I'm good. I'm not trying to move in on you. Do you wanna get high or not?"

It was a tipping point moment; Sav decided to cut him some slack. Maybe it was his own history and current pique with the man in the other room making him owly. His momentary tetchiness dissipated. "Yeah, thanks." He got up and slid into his robe.

"I have one almost like that... mine's gold, not..." Jake's eyes ran down him, stuck on a word descriptive of the colors.

"Peacock?" Sav finished for him. Yes, it was ostentatious, he very well knew it. First making sure Sam's gangling limbs were covered, he alighted on the other chair in the room across the round glass-topped side table from Jake and waited for him to load and light the pipe he withdrew from inside his jacket. When it was his turn, Sav took as big of a hit as he dared and held it, passing back. Weed in America was a different animal, stronger and harsher every year it seemed. He wouldn't need much to get toasty. 

Another hit and he was mellow, mellow, mellow. "Sorry I took the piss outta yeh, I mean, that I gave you a hard time for a minute there. Appreciate the share." 

"No worries." 

Sav added, though he didn't know why he even gave a shit, "I thought you were making a reference to my character." 

"If I was, it's because we're not so different in that regard." 

"Ah. Of course." Josh was lead singer, Sam was debatably the prettiest depending on taste, but Jake was the Marquis de Sade, however far they'd progressed in their own little world. 

When Jake passed it to him again, Sav took one more hit. The soporific of sex and weed was going to put him out like a light. He was rather looking forward to it. Nearby, Sam stirred and let loose a jaw-cracking yawn. 

The next interval of getting the youngest of them roused enough to dress and ushering them out into the night passed in a haze. Sav probably wasn't the best host but he saw them off with each a handshake and a nod, a couple of tiny bottles of the good stuff for Jake, and a few more kisses and gropes from Sam, which Sav was feeling indulgent enough to participate in. He didn't miss the darkened door behind him cracked an inch. When the stealthy molestation threatened to turn into full-on glomping, he pulled away but in good humour, with the usual industry BS to the effect of, 'should they find themselves in the same city again...' 

He meant it, he decided as he went to bed alone. 

Didn't wake alone, though. The aroma of high-end coffee permeated Sav's olfactory sense. He kept his eyes shut, but couldn't pretend sleep for long. Had what he remembered from the night before really happened? Everyone had heard of petit mort; he'd never personally experienced it. Joe was going to have to work harder. Not that it was the point of his evening with Sam, more of a surprise bonus.

The expected voice rumbled over him. "You've been smokin' in here. They're gonna charge a huge fee for that y'know." 

"Didn't occur to me last night. Had other things on my mind." 

"And on yer cock..." 

"Just like you." He could have gone into full-on bitch mode, but did it matter? Today was a new day. Sav kept his voice as mild as possible around the morning grit and wiped the sand from his eyes. "So was he good? Or should I say, how good was he?"

Joe groaned, "Really? Need you ask? How was..."

"Oi! Not gonna kiss and tell." Knowing it would drive his bandmate, best friend and lover up the wall not to know every minute detail, Sav cut him off there. "Ask me again... in about a decade." He huffed out a laugh and clambered out of bed, hair a tangled mess, mouth tasting of ash and seriously over-stewed alcohol. Same as many a morning in his life. Joe's gaze ran like hot little hands all over his naked skin and morning wood. Also the same.

"Oh, I think I can get it out of you before that." 

It would be discussed, they both knew it, but not till Sav was good and ready.

"Let's start by you letting me take a piece outta your...." Sav squinted. "Really, Joe. Hickies?" Joe just stretched and flopped on his back. 

FIN.


End file.
